Some secrets aren't meant to be told.

Peyton was taken back when he hugged her, surprised in his reaction. This was the first intimate contact they had ever had and she was reeling. He smelled sweet, and his was so warm. Shaking those thoughts away, Peyton listened to what Dante was saying.


"Hate you? Never," Peyton murmured, pulling herself away from him. She looked at his face and watched the relief wash over him with her response. "I do know," She admitted, responding to his words, "I may not get how it's possible, but I would never hate you for it," Peyton smiled then, a perfect genuine smile.


But, her thoughts slipped back to what she had to tell him and she took a deep breath. She remembered Blake's reaction the night before and felt her heart hitch with the memory. "Theres....something I need to tell you, too." Peyton whispered.
 
Dante waved it away, smiling. "In a minute. Sit with me, ok?" Dante said, pulling her into the bench, but first catching the eye of 'Hamlet'. "Oh, I looked on my theater app this morning, I saw that there was a showing of 'Romeo and Juliet' at a downtown theater, maybe to make up for Blake I thought we could go. Just us, not Blake," Dante joked, trying to ease the blows on his heart. Do it now.


"About Blake...I have this disorder called DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder is where the mind becomes two different people, one to support the other in times of need. My...Father beat the crap out of me while growing up, so I made Blake in my mind to be the strong one. He's like a brother, but one inside me." Dante explained, not looking at her. Dante couldn't admit this while staring at her, admiring her beauty. He was so plagued and tainted, hardly worth it. "But what do you have to say?" he focused on her, trying not to let himself hurt any more.
 
Peyton watched him, and thought about how nice it would be to go see a play with Dante. But, when he started talking about why Blake existed she felt almost guilty. How could she burden him with her own problems? But, Blake had told her she needed to tell him and well, he was right.


Biting her lip, Peyton shifted uneasily turning so that she was looking directly at the bookshop which was closed. Her hands were shaking, so she rubbed them nervously on her knees trying to bring up the courage to say what it was she needed to say. Sighing, she glanced over at Dante then locked her eyes back on the bookstore, "You know that I'm sick.." She started, "I know you've seen it, and well I can't hide it, but there is something I need you to know...." Her voice trailed off, and she looked back at Dante turning toward him, "You don't have to talk to me anymore, you don't even have to be nice to me..." She shook her head then, recollecting herself. "The truth is," her voice was a soft whisper and she was looking down at Dante's hands, "I'm dying. I have tuberculosis, and I'm essentially drowning. My lungs are slowly filling with blood and there's nothing I can do to stop it," She was frozen then, awaiting his reaction.
 
Dante breathed in, breathed out, and suddenly felt the sting of tears block his throat. Tuberculosis? She was...no, no. Peyton was dying. Peyton was drowning. But this didn't stop his smile from twitching into place. She managed to make him smile, still. "I was nice to you before I knew you were sick, what makes you think that'll change? I could only get nice from knowing who you really are," Dante said, taking her hand with a trembling one of his. It was not ok to cry, but it was perfectly alright to say he felt for this. And he'd worried about his fractured mind? When she had a pool of blood in her airways at all time?


"You can get treatment though, right?" Dante asked, hopeful. Jesus, no wonder Blake didn't screw with him and do anything stupid, he needed a clear mind for this. Dante wrapped an arm around Peyton and pulled her into his shoulder so she wouldn't see how close to tears he was.
 
Peyton heard the waver in his voice, wondering if he were maybe about to cry. But, when she looked up at him she didn't see any tears, at least not yet. It made her smile when he told her he wouldn't stop being nice to her. She liked Dante, and she was happy to know that he wasn't going anywhere.


When he asked of treatment, she cringed. But her mind was momentarily pulled from his question when he pulled her into him. Her cheeks instantly flared up, and she bit down on her lip. Peyton hadn't let herself get this close to someone physically or emotionally in a very long time, and this almost made her want to get up and run.


Was it fair for her to let herself be selfish? Put her burdening life onto someone else like this? She didn't know, but right now he was waiting for an answer. One that Peyton wasn't sure he was going to want to hear. "Treatment is expensive...well more than expensive," She informed, "In fact, I'd have to become homeless, and stop eating. Even then I wouldn't be able to pay for it all..." She said, her voice wavering. Looking up she was shocked to see how close she was with him, and she quickly looked back to her lap cheeks reddening even further.
 
God, did he know life was expensive. Dante pressed his lips against the top of her hair and let himself breathe in her scent, so very Peyton. "Homeless is a term for people who don't have a place to go, Peyton," Dante started. He was being to forward. She didn't need his help, even though she did, and maybe this would insult her. "Would you considering moving someplace and having a roommate who worked at a certain bookstore?" Dante whispered and let a few tears sink down his cheeks and against the top of her hair.


"You'd be safe. You could stay with me, and I could get another job, and then maybe our combined efforts we could pay for something more than a few pills a week. We could be friends and you'd be able to get all the best books, yours truly," Dante was sobbing now, his shoulders shaking. He sent up a prayer, and it seemed with Peyton around, he was doing that more often. I don't care what You do to me, just let me keep her. Please. Just let me keep Peyton.
 
As she sat there, she felt her heart hammer in her chest. The way Dante was moving around her, touching her so gently. He kissed the top of her head and she was pretty sure she was about to have a heart attack. But, he was talking now, and she needed to focus on that.


Peyton listened to him speak, his voice just as sad as her own. He was offering her all the help in the world, a chance to save her own life. But, would she take it? It was possible that she might not considering the burden it would put on Dante. How could she ask someone she hardly knew to do something to great for her? Biting her lip she dared to look up at him. He was crying, and it weighed her down with guilt. Quietly, and with out giving him a yes or a no she raised her hand and caressed his cheek, using her thumb to wipe away his tears. Peyton just looked at him for a long time before dropping her hand and looking back the bookstore. "I couldn't ask that of you," She murmured, looking at their hands that were still linked. To the outside world they must have looked like lovers, "But..." her voice trailed off for a moment as she thought, "As long as......as long as you're not doing all the work, I'll do it," She said and felt a weight fly off her chest. This was bold, knowing she hardly had met Dante, but he knew her better than anyone in the world. Peyton believed then, that he was there for her, they had met for a reason. She wasn't going to let him get away.
 
Dante pulled in a breath when she brushed her tiny thumb across his cheek. "I know you could never ask me, that's why I asked you," Dante reached into her lap and covered her dainty fingers with his large but thin palms, like a pianist would have. The it hit him that she'd said...yes. Yes.


"Thank God! You won't regret this, I promise," Dante blabbered, laughing in relief. "My apartment has only one bedroom, but since I don't really have guests over, I have no problem making that my room. I have this really comfortable papa-san chair I can sleep on, and it's really no trouble at all!" he was almost screaming in joy. Dante leaned forward and hugged his new best friend. He'd never really let anyone into his life, especially when they knew what kind of a screwed up monster he was. "I'll get you a job at the book store or maybe we can get you a comfortable job where you won't have to work hard. We don't want you getting sick. Then you can save your money, I can save mine, and maybe..." maybe we can save you. I'm beyond repair, but maybe it'll set my mind at ease knowing you'll survive.


Inside the blackest pit of Dante's subconscious, Blake rests, happy and content. 'Bastard finally happy, huh? Good.'
 
Peyton watched his face go from hopeful, to fully overwhelmed, to brimming with joy. She bit her lip as his arms flew around her and she wondered how she would tell him. "You know," She murmured, turning so her face was in the crook of his neck, "It's possible I'm past saving.." She said, and that killed her. Just thinking about it made her want to run. But, saying it outloud was something entirely, it was real when she said it out loud. "But, I'm not going to give up," Peyton said pulling herself from him, and nodding sternly.


She wondered then, what Blake would have thought about her words. He had seem so appalled by her, and mad...did Dante feel that way at all?


Suddenly a quote came to Peyton's mind and she spoke it before she had even realized what she had said,"Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath; Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, and death's pale flag is not advanced there," she quoted. Absent mindedly she touched her lips with her finger tips. Peyton wondered, would death be as beautiful for her as for Juliet? Would there be someone to mourn her at her fall? Would her Romeo fall after her?


When she realized her surroundings she stiffened and glanced shyly over at Dante, clearing her throat, "Uhm, sorry.." She breathed avoiding his eyes.
 
"Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath; Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks, and death's pale flag is not advanced there," she said, and Dante stiffened. He looked at her face in it's peculiar wonder, and he almost knew she was thinking about death. She must, often too, but it didn't help. "Relax, Peyton. We can try," he smiled. She was so sweet, so out of hope but still a trooper. "That quote always gives me this image in my mind. It's so clear, and I can smell honey," Dante confessed.


(sorry had dinner lost my concentration)
 
(it's cool)


Peyton looked up at him then, just for a moment before brushing a curl from her eyes and looking at the bookstore. "Sometimes I wonder..." Peyton breathed, her eyes full of focus, "If I will be as beautiful in death as Juliet was..." She shook her head then, as though what it sounded like she meant wasn't in fact what she meant, "I mean...not that 'will I be pretty when I die'..but, will I die for something more than this," Peyton gestured to her ribcage, touching right where a lung might be, "When I die...will there be someone to see me just as Romeo did Juliet? See me in all my imperfections yet find none of them imperfect..." Her voice floated in the hot summer air, her words twisting in the breeze being carried off.


Her eyes were full of tears now, but they weren't tears of sadness but, admiration. Peyton looked over at Dante then, before she spoke, "I only hope to be as strong as you," She whispered.
 
"Seeing somebody for their flaws was hard, loving them was harder. But when you love somebody, you find that those things become endearing, Peyton. Look at me!" Dante joked and held out his arms grandly. "I'm a sap with a violent narcassistic personality disorder brought on by fear or extreme anger, but how can you not like me? I work at a book store. I can do a headstand without my hands." Dante smiled and he ran fingers through his hair too. "I'm sure some day, somebody is going to come along and they will sweep you off your feet and it won't matter abour your cough," Dante reassured. "It won't matter a thing. In fact, the poor dude will probably have a Knight In Shining Armor complex and he won't be able to resist your delicate ways." he smiled and leaned back, enjoying the sun. It was a good day. Dante peeked over at Peyton.


"Want to see where you'll be staying, then? My room is clean, I like it clean."
 
Peyton laughed, it was musical and danced from her lips. "You'll have to show me sometime," She said, commenting about his handstand fact. But, she wondered, who would want a dying girl? Someone who would only be here for a few more years or god knows how long? Her thoughts were pulled away from her when Dante spoke again, "I'd love to," She said and stood up, throwing her arms out into a stretch. The sun felt good on her skin, and slight breeze ruffled her pin-up style dress, and swayed a few loose curls.


"But if you make a move on me, I might just have to kick you out and keep the place for myself," She teased, and looked down at him, a smirk playing at her ruby red lips. Twisting on her heels, Peyton faced Dante who was still sitting on the bench. Her face was soft in the light, and she watched him intently. Why was someone so nice and full of life wasting their time on her? What had she done to have someone like this in her life?
 
Her smile was rubies, but the good kind. "Y'know, I won't make a move on you Peyton, that wouldn't be fair. I'm doing this for a friend who needs somebody to lean on. Just don't bring your boyfriend back into my bed please," Dante grimaced and shivered. "I'd rather not wake up to that while trying to get clothes for the day to see another dude's...yeah..." Dante ended, suddenly blushing. It isn't like he cared if she had a boyfriend, it was the sharing beds thing.


Dante called the cab place he used about a week ago and sat back down, stretching out his legs on the cement ground while they had time to wait. He had a moment of frivolity. "Can we play "Truth"? Just ask me anything, I'm in the mood to know about you a bit more." he said, and pointed his finger at her. "But full, brutal honesty."
 
Peyton almost interjected when he said something about her boyfriend coming over, but stopped. "Sounds fair," She said with a nod. Laughing internally she looked down the street, wondering how far away it was that Dante lived.


Moments later, he was calling a cab and now sitting on the bench again, looking up at her. "Truth?" Peyton asked, not knowing of the game. It sounded simple enough though, so she nodded. "I can do that," She said and nodded in affirmation. Suddenly Peyton's heart slammed in her chest, there were so many things people didn't know about her. What was Dante going to want to know? "I've got one," She blurted trying to push off answering a question of his, "Do you think I have a boyfriend?" She asked and looked over at him before slipped down to the bench beside him. "Do you think someone would fall for this?" She gestured to herself and shook her head.
 
She asked if he thought she had a boyfriend, and Dante stared into her face. Peyton had a glow, but it wasn't like the one that girls in love had. "Well, you might, because you're so sweet and funny," Dante shrugged. "You could have your pick of the boys, really. It's somehting about how you carry yourself. Always so...in motion. Like perpetual dancing." Dante answered honestly, his own heart beating a nervous tattoo. "Do you think I have a girlfriend?" he retorted, suddenly not wanting to know the answer. If she said, 'No way!' or 'I thought you were gay' as others have, he may die.


It would be a few until the taxi showed up, so he braced himself for the ridicule. But a question ate at him; why did she ask that? Did she have a boyfriend? Did she not? Maybe, with the walls she put up. Why did it matter?
 
Peyton listened to him, and felt honored with his words. No one, for as long as she could remember had been this nice to her. Biting her lip, she glanced over at him, "No, I don't," She said and crossed her legs. "I think that because of Blake, you're afraid to let anyone in. You don't want to fall for someone and slip up, resulting in a heart break when they leave," She explained, "So no, I don't think you have a girlfriend, though I think you could if you wanted," Peyton said and locked her blue eyes on him.


Before he had time to react she asked him her question, "Why are you doing this for me?" She asked him, not looking away from his face. Her expression was serious, and she stood very still waiting for his response.
 
His heart didn't hurt when she said no, and she was absolutely correct when she said it. It was the reason, tried and true. The only thing that stung was that it was so obvious. Dante cleared his throat and smiled at her, waiting, and when asked he pulled in a deep breath to think. Why had he done this for Peyton? She wasn't more than a friend after just a week of knowing her, but he couldn't bear her hurt or in trouble.


"I have this crazy idea; people need help and it doesn't have to be just that friends or family help. It's not about how long I've known you or what connection we have, Peyton, you need the help and I want to help. I just do. It's right to help people," Dante said, seeing her tense posture as if on the brink and waiting to fall. His turn.


"What is your favorite dish?" Dante changed it up, hoping to surprise her. He liked her surprised face.
 
Peyton waited and when he spoke to her she felt a mix of happy and disappointed. Why was she disappointed? She didn't really know, but what she did know was she was glad it was him and not someone else. Some men had even tried to take advantage of her when they found out she was dying. "Come on," one had said, "You don't know how long you have," Then a thought occurred to her, she hardly knew Dante, yet she was moving in with him... Peyton shook out the thought and caught Dante's question.


"My favorite dish?" She thought about it for a moment, and then looked over at him, "I love strawberries," She told him, "Though it isn't a dish, I don't eat out...ever," She said and chuckled at her own dark joke. She couldn't afford to eat out, not ever.


"How come you didn't just cart me off to the hospital and forget about me?' She asked him, not really trying to change the subject back, but get insight into why Dante was here in her life. Why hadn't he taken the easy way out?
 
Jeez, cute and persistant. "Well, uh you asked me not to, so it's not like I really knew what to do otherwise. I couldn't forget, I was having the worst nightmares about you bleeding all all week. It's not like I was obsessed," Dante quickly reassured. "But we had such a nice talk, it was hard to forget how cool you were. And I figured 'well, I hope she'd ok'. But the not knowing always killed me, I just can't figure out why." Dante sighed, blowing out a puff of wind.


"Strawberries, huh? I meant reall food, kiddo," Dante smirked, leaning back and looking up into the shade. "I personally like chicken alfredo. It doesn't ruin my stomach," he said and chuckled. "So my next question is if you had a hundred dollars and no worries, what would you do with it?"
 
Peyton listened to him, and frowned slightly when he told her about his nightmares. A pang of guilt ran through her, hurting her heart. "I'm sorry," She whispered, but Dante had kept talking and she was sure he hadn't heard her. There was a mystery about Dante, not only due to his own condition but, because he was someone she couldn't quite figure out. Someone who didn't act as others would have when faced with a problem that she caused.


The thought was cut short, when she heard Dante say 'kiddo' and her mind slipped to Blake. He had called her that non stop the night before, and it had irritated her to no end. But, now, as they sat there on the curb it didn't bother her only fascinated her to no end. They weren't completely separate, some of their qualities were shared. She wondered how much they really shared.


"I'd put down a payment on my own bookstore," Peyton said and looked over at Dante's place of work. Books were her only friends for so long and she wouldn't soon forget them.


"What caused Blake to...happen?" She asked him, hoping she wasn't being to forward.
 
Dante smiled at her, and suddenly he remembered what he'd just said, Kiddo. Something Blake did, he knew, and it irked him but Dante quelled it. No, you can't steal my moment. Dante laughed to himself, so blissful. When Peyton said she'd put a payment on a book store, Dante smiled. "Yeah? A book store, and what would it be called?" Dante asked, forgetting it was her turn to ask, but now he was interested. "Peyton's Pastimes? Juliet's Workshop? You like Shakespear right?" Dante started in and laughed, enjoying the idea of her owning herself a bookshop. Dante could see her with towers of books next to her and the most sweet, into-the-book face going on. It looked like her.


"Taxi is here," Dante said, standing, offering Peyton his hand.
 
Peyton didn't think much of it when her question wasn't answered, he had probably avoided it for a reason. "I don't know," She admitted after a short time of thought. She'd never really considered it greatly, not with her condition. "But, yes I love Shakespeare," She corrected and smiled.


When he stood she realized he had commented about the taxi which was pulling up. As she took his hand she felt nervous. Being close to him made her that way, though she wouldn't have been able to tell you why. Biting her lip she slid into the cab beside him, accidentally sitting closer than she would have normally.
 
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